


Berenice Wolfe's Romantic Heart

by Persiflage



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bernie Wolfe/Marcus Dunn (Mentioned), Bernie Wolfe: World's Okay-est Lesbian, Bernie's Cottage, Big Macho Army Medic Bernie Wolfe, Cheating, Dinner, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Jason Haynes (Mentioned), Serena Campbell: Bisexual Extraordinaire, Tumblr Prompt, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29421006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Canon Divergence: Serena Campbell discovers Robbie Medcalf is a cheat - on the worst day possible for such a discovery. Step forward Major Berenice Wolfe.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe, Serena Campbell/Robbie Medcalf
Comments: 17
Kudos: 86





	Berenice Wolfe's Romantic Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sevtacular](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevtacular/gifts), [Corvidden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvidden/gifts), [Sanctitatem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctitatem/gifts).



> I spotted a list of Valentine's Day/Romance prompts on [Tumblr](https://im-the-letter-t.tumblr.com/post/640499656883929088/valentines-dayromance-prompts) and the prompt: _Caught cheating on Valentine’s Day_ sparked an idea.

“Serena.”

Serena looks up from her paperwork in puzzlement at her co-lead, who’s just stuck her head around the door with an expression on her face that she cannot interpret.

“Bernie?”

“Robbie’s here. Did you know?”

Serena frowns. “No. What’s he doing here?”

Bernie shrugs. “It is Valentine’s Day,” she observes. “Perhaps he wanted to surprise you?”

Serena can’t help sighing. She rather wishes Robbie wouldn’t randomly show up in her workplace as she considers it unprofessional. “Where is he?” she asks.

“I spotted him sneaking into the on-call room.”

Serena frowns again. “Really?”

Bernie nods. “C’mon.” She waggles her fingers at her co-lead, who stifles another sigh, then gets to her feet. 

“I swear, Berenice Wolfe, if you’ve colluded with him to set me up –”

Bernie looks adorably confused. “Why would I set you up?”

Serena shakes her head, then follows Bernie out of their office and through the ward to the on-call room. She doesn’t take Bernie’s hand although, for some reason, she is tempted to do so, but she does walk close enough to the blonde for their shoulders and arms to brush against one another. That, though, is perfectly natural as far as Serena’s concerned because the two of them have been close for weeks now, their friendship strengthening as a consequence of Bernie’s divorce turning a bit hellish and of the other woman having Serena’s back as and when necessary (and as Bernie had promised her she would).

“Perhaps he’s in the middle of writing you a text to tell you where he is?” suggests Bernie.

“Perhaps,” Serena says, rather doubtfully, because surely he’d have done that by now.

Serena pushes open the door to the on-call room, Bernie at her back, and they stop dead in the doorway when they see Robbie with a nurse – Annette, Serena thinks it is, although all she can really see is red hair splayed across the pillow of the bed in the on-call room, because Robbie’s on top of the other woman, kissing her frantically.

“Robbie Medcalf, you cheating bastard,” snarls Bernie beside her, startling Serena with the vehemence of her tone.

The policeman jerks upright on the bed, head swivelling around, panic in his eyes as he takes in the two women standing in the doorway.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” continues Bernie, moving past Serena, who feels frozen to the spot, to grab the copper by the scruff of his neck, hauling him backwards off the bed so that he stumbles as his feet try to find purchase on the floor. 

Serena gasps in shock as she realises that Robbie’s trousers are undone, his wilting erection poking through the opening. 

“You little shit,” growls Bernie when she spots it. “Fucking in the on-call room? You should be bloody ashamed of yourself. Sort yourself out. Now!”

Robbie fumbles to obey, spluttering protests about how Bernie can’t treat him like this.

“Yes I can!” she snaps. “You’re in my workplace behaving in an unprofessional manner. And cheating on Serena, too. What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

She manhandles him towards the door. 

“I’ll call Security,” Serena says, fumbling for her phone in her pocket.

“Oh, don’t worry, Serena, I’ve got this. It’ll be an absolute privilege to toss this trash out myself. You deal with her.” She jerks her head towards the nurse, who’s looking terrified, her eyes brimming with tears. 

Serena nods, unable to find the words to thank Bernie as she frogmarches Robbie, still grasping the back of his neck, along the corridor towards the AAU exit. She closes the door behind them, then turns to the nurse.

“Well?” she asks, one eyebrow raised interrogatively.

The nurse, it is Annette, Serena recalls, bursts into noisy sobs, and the brunette’s patience snaps.

“Oh, for god’s sake, shut up!” she snarls. “Get your stuff together and get up to HR. I’ll be reporting you to them for this unprofessional behaviour.”

“Oh!” gasps Annette. “No, please don’t, Serena, I –” She cuts off as Serena glares at her, as much for the use of her first name as for the begging.

“Locker room, now,” Serena grates out. “Then upstairs. Immediately.”

“Y-yes, Ms Campbell.”

Serena steps back from the doorway to allow the nurse to pass and she scurries out, still sobbing, then she steps back into the on-call room so that she can get herself under control. Moments later Bernie appears in the doorway and she steps inside, closes the door, then strides across the room to Serena, wrapping her arms around her co-lead, who finds herself sobbing in turn.

“It’s okay, Serena, it’s okay,” Bernie murmurs. “He’s gone now, and he won’t be coming back if he knows what’s good for him.” She begins rubbing circles across Serena’s upper back. “And if he does show up again, I’ll make him regret it in the most painful fashion I can manage.”

Serena manages a tearful laugh at this threat. “My gallant Major,” she says, holding on tightly to the other woman. 

“Said I’d have your back, didn’t I?” Bernie says. She moves back slightly, then presses her lips to Serena’s temple. “I should get back to the ward. Do you want to stay here or find somewhere more salubrious to –”

“I sent Annette up to HR,” Serena says, pulling back, then taking the tissue that Bernie produces so that she can mop her face. “I’d better get up there, myself.”

“Okay. If there’s anything else I can do for you, let me know.”

Serena huffs. “Come to mine for dinner tonight.”

Bernie raises her eyebrows questioningly.

“Well, I have all the ingredients for a Valentine’s Day dinner sitting at home and Jason’s going to Allan’s for the evening, so either you come and help me eat it, or I bin it.”

“Oh, no, don’t do that,” Bernie says immediately.

“So, dinner at mine?”

“Okay.” Bernie gives her that trademark half smile, then a final squeeze, before stepping back, turning, and leaving. Serena takes herself into the ladies and washes her face, then makes her way upstairs to Human Resources to deal with the nurse who took it into her head to cheat on her boss.

SC-BW-SC-BW-SC

When she returns to AAU it’s almost time for her shift to end and she walks into the office, then sinks into her chair with a sigh.

“All sorted?” Bernie asks, an expression on her face that Serena thinks might be tenderness.

“Yes,” she says, scrubbing a hand over her face. “God, what a mess.”

Bernie gets up and comes to sit in one of the guest chairs alongside Serena’s desk. “Anything I can do to help?” she asks, reaching out and clasping Serena’s forearm. 

She can’t help thinking that the situation must be serious if Berenice Wolfe, who’s far from tactile, is both doling out hugs and clasping Serena’s arm. She shakes her head, her other hand resting on Bernie’s. “No. Just so long as you come to mine for dinner.”

“I promise,” Bernie says firmly. “Do you want me to bring anything?”

Serena shakes her head again. “No.”

“Okay. I’m going to go home and grab a shower, then I’ll come to yours. If that’s okay?”

“It is,” Serena says. “If you come straight over after showering – and dressing of course! – you can be my sous chef.”

Bernie chuckles warmly. “Deal,” she says, giving Serena’s arm a squeeze. “And since our shifts ended five minutes ago, I suggest we get out of here before someone holds us up.”

“Good idea,” Serena says. 

Bernie gets to her feet and crosses to her desk, and they both shut down their computers, then grab their bags from the bottom drawer of their desks, before Bernie helps Serena into her coat, her fingers brushing lightly against the nape of Serena’s neck as she deals with the collar.

“Thank you,” Serena whispers, suddenly feeling unusually shy.

“You’re welcome.” Bernie shrugs on her own coat, then they make their way out to the car park together, shoulders and elbows brushing as they walk. 

They reach Serena’s car first and Bernie reaches out and tangles their fingers together, then squeezes Serena’s hand. “Robbie didn’t deserve you,” she says softly. “You’re better off without him.”

“Thank you.”

Bernie slides her hand free, then says, “I’ll see you in a bit. Thirty minutes or so.”

“Okay.” Serena beeps her car unlocked, then can’t help smiling as Bernie opens the door for her and holds it as she slips into the driver’s seat. “Thanks.”

Bernie nods, then steps back, waiting as Serena starts her car, then she waggles her fingers, before turning on her heel and striding across the car park to her own car. Serena reverses out of her parking space, then heads towards the exit. 

As she drives home, she can’t help thinking about Bernie, about how unhesitating she’d been when she’d hugged Serena, as if it was perfectly normal for her to be so tactile. She shakes her head, doing her best to dislodge her thoughts and not think, in particular, about Bernie pressing her lips to her temple. She deliberately forces thoughts of Bernie kissing her properly, on the mouth (or elsewhere), out of her head; likewise, she refuses to think about Bernie’s hands on her body. She’s never been more than friends with a woman before, but she thinks if any woman could be more than friend, it would probably be Berenice Wolfe who is.

As promised, Bernie rings Serena’s bell some thirty minutes after they left the hospital, and when she opens the door to her co-lead, the blonde holds out a wine gift bag.

Serena frowns. “What’s this?”

Bernie chuckles, eyes alight with mirth. “It’s an elephant, of course,” she says, her tone teasing.

Serena rolls her eyes, then steps back to let Bernie inside. “I told you that you didn’t need to bring anything.”

“I know,” Bernie says, her expression softening as she looks at her co-lead, “but I figured you might need cheering up and I couldn’t think of a better way to do that than with your favourite white wine.”

“White?” gasps Serena, appalled. “Bernie, you know –” She cuts herself off when the blonde begins to laugh.

“Your face, Serena,” she splutters. “It was such a picture. I wish I’d taken a photo.”

“Oh you,” Serena says in a sort of growl. She can’t help joining in the laughter, though, especially when she hears the other woman’s incredible honking laugh. She puts the bottle of wine down on the hall table, then wraps her arms around Bernie. “Thank you,” she says softly against the blonde’s cheek. “Thank you for making me laugh. I really needed it.”

“Any time,” Bernie says, holding Serena as tightly as she’s being held in turn.

They pull apart and Bernie sheds her coat and boots, unwinding a green scarf from around her neck and stuffing it into one of her coat pockets. “Right then, milady, I am yours to command for the evening.”

Serena chuckles, grabs the wine, then slides her free hand through Bernie’s arm and leads her into the kitchen.

Bernie washes her hands, then they begin preparing dinner. They’re having smoked salmon with prawns, horseradish cream and lime vinaigrette for the starter, followed by steak with mushroom puff tartlets with steamed spinach and roast potatoes for the main, and finishing with violet creams, which Serena had made the previous day and left chilling in the fridge overnight. They sort out the main course first since the steak and potatoes need about thirty five minutes to cook, and the starters take about twenty minutes to prepare. Steaming the spinach takes only minutes so they’ll wait to do that until nearer to the time they want to eat it.

Serena’s pleased to discover that she and Bernie work equally as well and seamlessly in the kitchen as they do in theatre, not that she’d really doubted they would, but it’s nice to be able to prove it.

She leaves Bernie to set the table, which already has a cloth laid, together with a candelabra and an empty flower vase, then heads upstairs to change. She hadn’t planned to dress up, but Bernie’s arrived wearing tailored trousers, such as Serena’s never seen her in before, together with a white dress shirt with RAMC cufflinks in the sleeves, and a navy blue and gold brocade waistcoat, so she decides that she’s going to make an effort, too, rather than changing into her pyjamas and wallowing as she might’ve done had she not invited Bernie home. She undresses swiftly, then puts on a matching red silk and lace bra and panties set, then some nude stockings, before she takes the little black dress that she’d had specially dry cleaned for tonight, off its hanger and slips it on; finally she slides her feet into the blood red kitten heels she’d selected to go with the dress.

When she gets downstairs, Bernie’s standing some way from the dining room doorway, her expression solemn, and Serena frowns until the blonde holds out her elbow. Serena huffs out a laugh, then slips her hand into the crook of Bernie’s elbow and allows herself to be led into the dining room. And even though it’s her house, she can’t help catching her breath at the sight of its transformation: the candles in the candelabra are lit, along with several tea lights which are positioned along the window ledge (the curtains safely tied back out of the way of the naked flames) and on various bits of furniture around the room; there’s a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the formerly empty vase, and where Bernie found them from at such short notice, she cannot begin to figure out; additionally the table’s been laid with her best china and silverware. 

“Where did the flowers come from?” asks Serena, confused.

Bernie blushes. “I might’ve ordered them for you after the um, the Incident.”

Serena can’t help feeling her throat constrict with intense emotion: not only because her co-lead ordered flowers for her, but because she doesn’t mention the policeman’s name.

“They, um, they provided the tealights, too,” Bernie adds, ushering Serena across to a seat at the dining table. “It pays to shop local.”

Bernie pulls out the chair and Serena settles herself in it. “You must’ve paid quite a lot of money for this,” she observes. “You should let me reimburse you.”

“Certainly not,” Bernie says in a very firm tone. “You’ve provided an expensive dinner that smells absolutely delicious. Least I can do is cough up for a few flowers and candles. After all, if it hadn’t been for me, you would’ve have been forced to witness the Incident.”

Serena grabs Bernie’s wrist before she can move away. “I don’t blame you for that,” she says firmly. “In fact, I’m grateful. Not for what we saw, but for the fact that I found out. Imagine if you hadn’t seen him going into the on-call room? I’d never have known he was cheating on me. Imagine if he’d turned up tonight as though he hadn’t been fucking around with Annette this afternoon?” She squeezes Bernie’s hand. “Promise me that you won’t feel guilty about this?”

Bernie swallows, the sound surprisingly loud in the quiet room. “I promise,” she says.

“Good. Now, let’s eat.”

“Okay. Before I go and get the starters, though, I just wanted to say you look gorgeous and whatshisname is a total idiot for cheating on you.”

Serena feels tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she gives Bernie a smile. “Thanks, love. You’re looking pretty swish yourself, too.” She chuckles softly. “I never knew a woman could look so good in a dress shirt and a waistcoat, but I should’ve guessed you would.”

Bernie blushes prettily. “Thanks.” She gives Serena’s hand a squeeze and the brunette lets go of it to allow her to go and fetch their starters. As she goes, Serena tries not to take notice of how pert Bernie’s bum looks in the tailored trousers. She also tries not to think about the fact that this whole scenario has become very date-like, despite the fact that the two of them are not dating. As she listens to Bernie moving about in the kitchen, Serena is only slightly surprised to realise that she wouldn’t mind if this was a date: Berenice Wolfe is gorgeous, kind-hearted, and an incredibly good friend – a real catch, in other words, and Serena wonders just why the other woman is still single, given that her divorce is all but complete.

Bernie comes back carrying a tray holding two plates with their smoked salmon and prawn starters, together with a bottle of Shiraz. “Should’ve brought the bottle through after I laid the table,” she observes with a rueful smile.

“It doesn’t matter,” Serena says, and takes one of the plates from the tray when Bernie lowers it next to her, then lifts the bottle of wine from it, too. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Bernie carries her plate around the table and sets it down, then puts the empty tray on the floor beside her chair. “Bon appetit.”

Serena chuckles, pouring them each a glass of wine. She passes one across the table to Bernie, feeling an electric thrill when their fingers brush together as the blonde accepts the glass from her. Then she picks up her own glass and holds it out towards her friend. “To best friends.”

Bernie blushes again. “To best friends,” she says, chinking her glass gently against Serena’s.

They eat in a companionable silence, quiet piano music playing in the background. Serena can’t help thinking that if she was dating Bernie, she would feel cherished. Hell, she does feel cherished right now, knowing that the other woman has done everything not only to keep her from feeling miserable, but also to make her feel special. 

After they’ve eaten their starters, Bernie carries their plates back out to the kitchen and returns with their steaks, accompanied by the steamed spinach and golden roast potatoes. 

“We make as good a team in the kitchen as the theatre,” Serena observes as Bernie sets a plate down in front of her.

The blonde chuckles. “We do. I have to say, though, that I don’t cook like this at home.” 

“Don’t tell me you exist on a diet of takeaways,” Serena says with a smirk. “Not with that figure.”

Bernie ducks her head, looking at Serena through her fringe. “No, I mostly eat Marks and Spencer's meals for one. I used to love cooking when I was home on leave and the kids were small, but Marcus always complained that I made too much mess in the kitchen.”

“Well, everyone makes a mess to a certain extent,” Serena says. “You can’t cook without making some mess.”

“I know,” Bernie says, grimacing slightly. “And it’s not as though I didn’t wash up afterwards, because I always did.” She sighs. “I don’t know. I think it was simply the case that nothing I did was ever good enough for him because my career came first.” She shakes her head. “As if his didn’t.”

“Oh well,” Serena says bitterly. “He’s a man. His career matters more.”

Bernie snorts inelegantly but emphatically in response to that. “Quite.” She frowns. “Let’s not talk about men anymore.”

“What do you want to talk about instead?” Serena asks.

“Tell me about Elinor?”

“Oh. Um, okay.” Serena is slightly surprised by the question, then realises she’s thinking in terms of the men whom she’s dated over the years, who are generally uninterested in the fact that Serena’s a single mother. She mentally chides herself for comparing Bernie Wolfe to any man, not because she’s thinking in terms of Bernie being a date, but because she is magnificent and should never be compared to a man, even if the comparison’s in her favour.

She gives herself a mental shake, then starts telling Bernie stories of Elinor, and of Adrienne, too, and her friend listens in rapt concentration as they eat their steaks and vegetables.

Once they’ve eaten their main course, they head into the kitchen together so that Serena can put the finishing touches to the violet creams they’re having for dessert, while Bernie puts on the coffee.

They return to the dining room and Serena asks Bernie to return the favour by telling her a bit about her children. The blonde is telling Serena about her son Cameron dropping out of medical school when they finish their desserts and they carry their empty dishes and wine glasses into the kitchen, where Serena loads up the dishwasher while Bernie makes them both a mug of coffee. They decide to relocate to the sitting room, and Bernie goes to blow out the many candles, then draws the curtains once all the tealights are out, while Serena collects the vase of flowers from the table and carries it into the sitting room, setting it in the middle of the mantelpiece over the fireplace.

She puts her mug of coffee down on a coaster on the coffee table, then moves to draw the curtains against the increasingly wet night outside. 

“I think we should have a fire,” she observes as Bernie comes in and puts her own mug of coffee down on the coffee table.

“Want me to do it?” Bernie asks.

“I didn’t realise the RAMC taught fire making skills, too,” Serena teases.

Bernie chuckles. “They don’t. I learnt that from my grandfather when I was about ten.”

“And you still remember?” Serena asks, smirking.

“Oi!” exclaims Bernie in a tone of mock outrage. “I’m not _that_ old, you cheeky woman.”

Serena chuckles, then raises an eyebrow. “I take it you do remember, then?”

Bernie huffs. “I’ve had plenty of practise since then, I’ll have you know.”

“Really? Where?”

“At my grandparents’ cottage. Well, it’s my cottage now. I inherited it after my grandad died a few years ago.”

“You have a cottage?” Bernie nods as she kneels down to get the fire going. “Where is it?”

“Down in South Devon, near Exeter.” She sighs. “I used to love going down there to visit, and so did Cam and Charlie, but I’ve only been the once since I inherited it. Marcus always complained the place was too small, which I suspect was just an excuse not to go down there.” She gets back up, dusting her hands together, then moves to join Serena on the sofa.

“You know, the more I hear about that man, the more I think you’re better off without him.”

Bernie huffs a laugh. “Well, I’m hardly going to argue.”

Serena chuckles. “Yes, sorry. I can’t help wondering, sometimes, how the two of you ended up together.” Bernie sighs and Serena can’t help reaching out to clasp her wrist. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. We did agree to stop talking about men, after all. Tell me more about this cottage, please?”

Bernie reaches over and places her free hand on top of Serena’s, squeezing it gently. “It was mainly inertia on my part,” she says. “We’d become mates at university, mostly because he wasn’t awful to me for being a woman who wanted to go into medicine, although he teased me a lot about only wanting to join the RAMC for the sake of meeting loads of squaddies.”

Serena shakes her head. “Men!”

Bernie shrugs. “I know. Anyway, we sort of drifted into actually going out together, and then one day he proposed while we were having dinner with my parents and I felt like I couldn’t really say no because he seemed like a decent guy, my parents really liked him, and I couldn’t yet admit, even to myself, that I preferred women.”

“Oh Bernie.” 

“I know,” Bernie repeats. “It was stupid of me to agree, but –” She shrugs, and Serena squeezes her wrist, only now noticing that she still has her hand on Bernie, or that the blonde’s hand is still covering her own. She feels a shiver slide down her spine and thinks about how much she wants to lean in and kiss Bernie until all thoughts of Marcus have evaporated.

She pulls her hand away from Bernie in order to lean forward and grab her mug of coffee, and after a moment the blonde does the same. 

“So, tell me more about the cottage. Just how small is it?”

“Not that small,” Bernie tells her. “Three bedrooms, an ensuite bathroom attached to the master bedroom, and a separate bathroom to serve the other rooms. Downstairs, there’s a fairly decent sized kitchen and a sitting room and living room combined. My grandparents had the dividing wall knocked through to give them more space.” She drinks some more of her coffee. “You should come down and see it some time.” 

She makes the suggestion casually, as if it’s not a big deal, but to Serena it feels like a really big deal, although she’s careful to respond equally casually. “I’d like that.”

“There’s also a fairly big garden,” Bernie says. “It runs down to the river, which was where I learnt to swim.” 

“It sounds lovely,” Serena says with a warm smile, wondering if she will get to see it.

“Maybe we could go down at Easter? Jason could come, too, if he’d like, plenty of space, after all.”

“I’ll ask him,” Serena says, slightly taken aback, but also feeling very touched that Bernie would invite her nephew, too. “I’m not sure how he feels about the countryside since he’s always lived in Holby.”

“If he hates the idea, that’s fine, Serena. I won’t be offended. I just wouldn’t want you to worry about him being here alone.”

“Well, if he didn’t want to come, he could always stay with either Allan or Greta, I expect.”

“Okay. If he wanted to invited Greta, that would be fine, too.”

Serena shakes her head. “You don’t have to invite my entire family, you know.”

Bernie smirks. “Well, I was going to draw the line at Edward and ‘his foetus-bride’ as you phrased it, but I can invite them too, if –” She breaks off, laughing at Serena’s expression, which she is sure is full of outrage.

“Oh you,” she says, poking the blonde in the ribs, which unleashes more laughter, which proves infectious enough that pretty soon they’re clinging to each other as they laugh, until gradually calming down, Serena’s left holding Bernie and staring into her deep, dark eyes. 

There’s almost no warning before it happens – a flickered glance down at her lips, and then Bernie’s kissing her, and Serena kisses her back, a flood of warmth spreading throughout her body as she tightens her grip on the blonde’s shoulders and deepens the kiss eagerly.

When they eventually break apart, Bernie’s eyes are wide, with apprehension Serena thinks, so she heaves in a breath then leans in and kisses the blonde again, taking the initiative this time so that Bernie will know that she wants this, that she’s desperate to kiss her best friend and has been, without fully recognising that desire, for quite some time.

“Serena,” Bernie whispers when they pull apart the second time.

“Yes, love?”

“Oh.” The blonde just breathes the word, sighs softly, then says, “I was going to ask if you’re sure about this, but that’d be idiotic, wouldn’t it?”

Serena chuckles warmly. “It would rather,” she agrees. “I kissed you back, after all. And initiated that second kiss.”

“Mmhmm.” Bernie’s expression is soft and dreamy, and it makes Serena’s heart clench. “I’ve wanted to do that for such a long time.”

“I did, too, though I didn’t fully realise it until you kissed me.”

Bernie leans in, pressing their foreheads together. “So, what happens now?” she asks quietly. “Because as much as I want to take you to bed and ravish you, you have only just broken up with your boyfriend.”

“Ravish me, hmm?” 

“Mmhmm.” Bernie shifts minutely, then her hot mouth, with its impossibly soft lips, is on Serena’s again, stealing her breath, stealing her ability to think coherently. She feels as if she’s melting against the sofa, indeed her body seems to be made of liquid heat.

“Bernie,” Serena moans when she feels a hand cupping her right breast through the fabric of her dress. “Please.”

“Please what, love?” Bernie asks, a tender note in her voice as her hot breath ghosts against Serena’s ear.

She guides Bernie’s hand into the top of her dress, pressing that strong hand with those long, clever fingers against her breast. The blonde obliges her by squeezing it, the pad of her thumb skating over her stiffened nipple. “Please ravish me, Bernie. You’re not a rebound or second best. You’re my best friend in the world and the sexiest woman I know, and I want you.”

“You’re sexier,” Bernie says, then kisses her even more deeply, before lowering her head and sucking on Serena’s nipple through the fabric of her bra.

“Fuck!” gasps the brunette as she feels a sharp stab of desire between her legs. “Please, Bernie!”

“It’s okay, love, I’ve got you.” And then next thing Serena knows, the blonde has scooped her up off the sofa and is carrying her across the room and into the hall.

“Bernie!” Serena cries out, shocked. “Your back.”

The trauma surgeon chuckles. “Don’t you worry about my back. Just tell me where I’m heading when I get up the stairs.”

“Turn right,” Serena says, breathless though she’s being carried not doing the carrying. “Door at the end of the hall.”

Moments later she finds herself being lowered to sit on her bed before Bernie kneels at her feet, her expression full of tenderness as she draws Serena’s shoes off. Then she trails kisses up Serena’s left leg, up under the hem of her dress, only to stop short of the apex of her thighs, then she repeats the process with Serena’s right leg, again stopping short. Bernie gets to her feet, then draws her up as well, kissing her deeply as she unzips Serena’s dress, before lowering it to the floor, then easing her back down to the bed.

It is, Serena thinks somewhat dizzily, the most tender and caring any new lover has ever been with her and she wonders if it’s because Bernie’s a woman, or if it’s simply because it’s Bernie. Not that it really matters either way. She feels cherished, as she had earlier, and it’s a wonderful feeling.

SC-BW-SC-BW-SC

When Serena awakes the following morning, aching deliciously, with a warm body at her back and an arm curled over her waist, her fuzzy, still sleepy brain suggests that it’s Robbie who’s sharing her bed, but as she slowly wakes up, Serena remembers the events of the previous day and recalls that it’s Bernie who’s sharing her bed. She sighs in heartfelt satisfaction at the idea and the woman behind her stirs a little, then in a voice thick with sleep asks, “Okay, love?”

Serena half turns towards Bernie, who is spooning her, and the blonde shifts back a little to allow her room to turn onto her back. “Very okay,” she says softly. “Thank you.”

Bernie gives her a soft smile, then leans in and nudges Serena’s nose with her own. “No need to thank me, love. It was my pleasure.”

Serena chuckles. “I believe it was my pleasure, too.”

That elicits a smirk, then Bernie’s eyebrows shoot up when Serena’s stomach grumbles loudly in the quiet bedroom. “How about breakfast in bed?” she asks.

Serena raises an eyebrow of her own. “You can stay over more often if you’re going to make me breakfast in bed,” she observes.

Bernie laughs. “I’ll hold you to that, Campbell,” she says. “So, breakfast in bed?”

“Go on then,” she says, curious to know what the blonde is going to bring her. “And coffee, strong –”

“And hot,” Bernie says with another smirk. “I know.”

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” teases Serena.

“I like to think I know you at least a little.” The blonde’s expression is serious. “I’ve never really had the chance to do this, you know.”

“Do what?” asks Serena curiously.

“Have a properly romantic relationship with someone.” She shrugs. “My relationship with Marcus didn’t allow for it, given I was away so much, and my relationship with Alex was clandestine because it was against the rules.” She looks away, a pink flush on her cheeks, then says in a much quieter voice, “I’ll try not to fuck this up, Serena.”

She grabs Bernie’s hand and tugs gently until the other woman’s looking at her, albeit from behind her fringe. “It’s on both of us to try that,” she says gently. She leans in and presses her forehead to Bernie’s. “It’s up to both of us not to fuck this up, okay?”

The blonde nods and Serena can see tears in her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak, but her stomach growls again, and she ends up laughing, instead. Bernie smirks, then says, “I’ll go and fetch some breakfast.”

“Thanks, love. Make sure you bring enough for two.”

Bernie’s smirks morphs into an outright grin. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m planning to.” There’s something a little wicked in her expression when she says this and Serena surmises that there will be further enjoyable activities before the morning is out. She watches in appreciation as Bernie slips from her bed and roots around on the floor for a few moments before pulling on her dress shirt from the night before; the blonde fastens the two buttons between her breasts, then saunters out. Serena can’t help feeling as if she’s won the jackpot: Berenice Wolfe is gorgeous, sexy, and the tenderest, most caring lover she’s ever had – not even Edward, in the earliest days of their relationship, ever managed to make Serena feel as cherished as Bernie has done.

She’s dozing again when the trauma surgeon returns, her arrival heralded by the scent of strong coffee and bacon, and she opens her eyes as Bernie comes into her room carrying a laden tray. She pushes herself up to sit against the headboard, her pillows supporting her, and takes the tray from Bernie before she slips off her shirt, then slides back into the bed.

“Bacon butties,” Serena observes, slightly surprised, “and bowls of fresh fruit salad with Greek yoghurt. Major, you’re spoiling me.”

Bernie gives her the little pleased half smile that Serena’s seen before. “Glad you approve, Fräulein,” she says, then accepts the mug of coffee which Serena pours for her. “Thanks.”

They eat the bacon butties first and Serena doesn’t think she’s ever savoured a breakfast more, not even on the morning after her wedding (not least because Edward was still fairly blotto). Afterwards they eat their fruit salad, over which they’ve poured a generous amount of Greek yoghurt. 

Once the food is finished and the coffee drunk, Serena sets the tray down on top of the chest of drawers, then they take it in turns to clean their teeth and use the facilities, before climbing back into bed together where Bernie takes her time, or so it seems to Serena, reminding her lover just how talented her mouth and hands are, and the brunette feels as if she’s being worshipped. It’s a rather heady sensation and she finds herself wondering why she has never been more than friends with a woman before. Perhaps, though, she needed to meet Bernie before she could realise that she was attracted to women as well as men. 

As she feels her orgasm rapidly building, Serena realises that she is incredibly lucky that an IED cut short Major Berenice Wolfe’s army career, and while she feels bad for the incredible toll it’s taken on the blonde, she knows that she has benefitted greatly from it.

She cries out her lover’s name as her climax hits her, thankful for Berenice Wolfe in her life and her bed.


End file.
